


maybe, someday

by marmolita



Series: don't turn on the lights [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Altissia, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Comfort Sex, First Time, Grief Sex, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Sort of I guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 08:58:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12186927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marmolita/pseuds/marmolita
Summary: Prompto has dreamed of touching Noct for years, in his most private fantasies.  It was never like this.  But Noct is asking, being so clear about what he wants, and Prompto wants this too, wants him, will take whatever Noct wants to give.





	maybe, someday

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the mood music of this fic, [Avril Lavigne's "Give You What You Like."](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RgBtO7kCO_c)
> 
> Warnings: I didn't tag for character death because this takes place after Luna dies, but it is very much a fic about Noctis dealing (or not dealing) with her death. Also I suppose you could consider this mildly dubious consent, but only because they don't really manage to talk about it.

Noct lies in a borrowed bed in Altissia, curled up on top of the covers with his clothes still on, notebook clutched in his arms. Prompto watches the slow rise and fall of his chest, the tiny line on his forehead where his brow furrows in his sleep. His heart aches.

This isn't how it was supposed to go. Nothing has been, not since they left Insomnia.

There are tear tracks where Noct cried himself to sleep. He always kept his relationship with Lunafreya private, but it's obvious that she was important to him and that he cared a great deal about her. Prompto can't resist reaching out to smooth a strand of hair back from Noct's face, letting his fingertips linger on Noct's cheek before he leaves him to his rest.

*

It's late, long past midnight, and Prompto's been tossing and turning enough that the sound of his door opening wakes him up fully. "It's just me," Noct says, closing the door quietly behind him. "Sorry for waking you up."

"Nah dude, it's okay, I was kind of awake anyway. Bad dreams, you know?"

"Yeah," Noct says, and Prompto mentally kicks himself. Of course Noct knows all about bad dreams.

"What's up?"

"Can I-- This is dumb, but can I just stay here for a while? I don't want to . . . be alone." His last words are so quiet they're practically inaudible, but even Altissia sleeps this late at night so there's no street noise filtering in through the window. Noct sounds tired, sad, _drained_ , and it's heartbreaking.

"'Course, come on in," Prompto says, hoping his emotion isn't showing too much in his voice. He scoots over and lifts the covers. Noct hesitates, then slides in next to him.

*

Prompto wakes up slowly, the haze of a dream dissolving into the room around him, the sound of birds through the window, the warmth of Noct's skin under his hand. Noct is still there in his bed, and Prompto is curled around him, pressed to his back, one hand resting on Noct's stomach.

For a moment, he breathes in with his nose in Noct's hair and holds him closer, as if he's still lost in a dream.

But when awareness hits him fully, he freezes. He's _in bed_ with Noct, after Noct had come to his room in the middle of the night seeking comfort and cried about Lunafreya until he'd fallen asleep. And Prompto isn't just cuddling him -- his body is reacting with it's usual morning eagerness to his friend's proximity. His face starts to heat and he's suddenly grateful that Noct is a good sleeper, because maybe he can extricate himself from this before Noct notices.

Prompto starts to slowly withdraw his hand, but Noct moves suddenly, grabbing Prompto's wrist and holding him there. Okay, Prompto thinks, taking a deep breath, okay, Noct is awake and still needs the comfort of his presence, and is apparently either okay with Prompto's physical reaction or hasn't noticed it. Yet. So he settles back down, trying hard to keep still on the off chance he hasn't been found out.

Noct doesn't take his hand off Prompto's wrist. Instead, he slides it down to his fingers, then pushes, like he wants Prompto to move his hand. Prompto lets Noct move him, thinking maybe it's just an uncomfortable spot, but Noct is sliding Prompto's hand down his stomach. He can feel the curved ridges of muscles through the soft shirt he's wearing, then the elastic waistband of his pants.

And then Noct keeps moving him until Prompto's hand is resting over the heat of Noct's own erection. Prompto freezes, his entire body feeling hot and tingly, his heart beating wildly.

"N-- Noct? What are you-- what are we--"

Noct only presses down, curling Prompto's fingers around his cock through his pants, and says, "Please. I-- Can you-- Please, Prompto." His voice sounds as broken as it had the night before.

Prompto has dreamed of touching Noct for years, in his most private fantasies. It was never like this. But Noct is asking, being so clear about what he wants, and Prompto wants this too, wants him, will take whatever Noct wants to give, so he squeezes gently and begins to stroke him through his pants.

It's not long before Noct is pushing his pants down, squirming to get Prompto's hand on his bare skin, and gods, it feels _good_ to have the hot weight of Noct's dick under his fingers. He's never done this before but it doesn't feel all that different than jerking himself off, except for the part where Noct is breathing hard, where his breath hitches in a way that sends shivers down Prompto's spine, where Prompto is achingly hard but uncertain if he's allowed to rub himself against Noct's ass.

Noct draws a sharp breath when Prompto twists his hand a little at the top, so he does it again, and again, Noct's erection swelling under his fingers until he comes with a breathy sigh, making a mess of Prompto's hand and the bed. Holy shit. Holy _shit_.

Too turned on to wonder what's allowed anymore, Prompto wipes his hand on the sheets and draws back, planning to get hold of his own cock, which he's sure would only need the barest touch to get him off. Before he can get his hand there, Noct shivers, a tremor running through his whole body. He curls away from Prompto, and then Prompto hears it.

Noct is crying.

What is he supposed to do? What the hell is he supposed to do?

Tentatively, Prompto sets his hand back on Noct's side, leans closer to his back, and Noct leans back against him, clutching at his arm and pulling it around him. He holds Noct as he cries, any thoughts of his own pleasure falling away before the tide of his friend's grief.

*

"Hey, Noct," Prompto says, taking a bite of oatmeal. Noct's eaten only a tiny nibble of his toast, and is now pushing the eggs around his plate with his fork. "Do you want to talk about it? About-- about this morning? Or about any of it?"

Noct keeps his eyes on his plate, cheeks flushed, as he says, "Not really." He glances up, meeting Prompto's gaze for a fraction of a second before dropping it again, and adds, "Sorry."

"O-- Okay." Prompto could push. He could force the discussion. It's driving him a little crazy, the way that Noct hasn't even acknowledged what happened between them, to the point where he'd wonder if he'd dreamed the whole thing if not for the stains on his sheets. Does it mean Noct wants him? Or was he just in the right place at the right time? Whatever's going on inside Noct's head, Prompto knows he's fragile right now -- push too hard and he might break. "If you change your mind, I'm here, yeah?"

Noct looks relieved.

*

It's late in the evening, late enough for most people to be asleep. The night breeze is making the curtains flutter, but Prompto doesn't notice, his attention focused on the man in his bed. 

Prompto's hand is on Noct's erection and he's working him slowly, by now used to the shape and size of it in his hand. Noct has been in his bed every night for the past week, coming in sometime during the night and staying until dawn. At first they only did this in the morning, and Prompto thought -- well, he's not sure what he thought, that maybe Noct was waking up hard and was vulnerable and needy and . . . something. But the third night, Noct had already been hard when he'd crawled into Prompto's bed, and when he'd taken Prompto's hand and said _please_ , well, it didn't take much convincing.

Until now, every time they've done this it's been with Prompto curled behind him and Noct's face pressed into the pillows. Now, Noct is on his back, and for the first time Prompto can see his expression. His eyes are half open, watching the drag of Prompto's hand on his cock. His lips are parted, and he looks so much like Prompto always dreamed that he can't help rocking his hips into Noct's side, just a little. The rules of this . . . thing between them are unclear, but Prompto still feels a little bit like he's taking advantage. Noct's body feels so good next to his though that Prompto closes his eyes, letting himself imagine for a moment that this is something more than what it is.

His eyes fly open when there's a touch at the side of his face, and then Noct is kissing him. Noct is _kissing_ him, and Prompto is so surprised that he stops moving his hand entirely. When his brain catches up, Noct is starting to pull away. Prompto surges forward into the kiss, opening his mouth, ready for anything that Noct wants to give him. It's like a dam breaking. Noct makes a sound low in his throat, then pushes Prompto onto his back and rolls on top of him. Noct has been passive in all their encounters so far, but now he's like a man possessed. Prompto can only hold on as Noct's mouth presses against his, hot and insistent. Noct's hands tear at his shirt, hips grinding down, and Prompto's stomach somersaults as pleasure jolts through his body.

He helps Noct get the two of them undressed, heart racing and cheeks burning at being laid bare in front of someone else this way for the first time in his life. Noct doesn't seem to notice, too intent on his own desire. Prompto gasps as Noct presses hot, wet kisses down his neck, hands wandering over his body, and Noct is pressing down against him and oh, gods, Noct's erection is rubbing up against his own, and it's nothing short of amazing. Then Noct's _hand_ is there, wrapping around them both and jerking them together. It's messy and rough and not at all like Prompto does to himself, but his hips lean into it all the same.

Prompto gets one hand on Noct's face and pulls him in for another kiss, making the assumption that if Noct is going to go this far then it's got to be okay for Prompto to kiss him back. He lets himself touch with the other hand, sliding over Noct's arm and down his back, feeling the flexing of his muscles and old, old scars. He hisses when Noct's hand pulls at him far too hard, and Noct pulls back and looks at him with wild, worried eyes. "Too dry," he gets out, and Noct takes his hand away and _licks_ it, and Prompto doesn't think he's ever been more turned on in his life.

And how fucked up is that? His best friend is grieving for his fiancee, his other friend has been blinded, and Prompto is so goddamned horny he might come just from the way Noct's tongue moves over his palm. Then Noct's hand is back, and it's wet and sloppy and _good_ , and Prompto breathes Noct's name as he moves against him until they're both sweating and trembling. Prompto comes first, pressing his head back into the pillows, and Noct follows soon after, groaning his release into Prompto's neck.

He doesn't cry, this time. He doesn't move at all, slumped over Prompto's body, a sticky mess between them. Prompto realizes, belatedly, that Noct is asleep. He sighs and pushes Noct until he rolls away, then gets a cloth and cleans them both up.

What the hell is going on between the two of them? Prompto swallows against the sudden tight feeling in his throat. Is this just physical comfort for Noct? Or could it be that now that Lunafreya is gone, he doesn't have any reason to hold back? Does Noct have feelings for him or does he just want sex?

They haven't talked about it, haven't said a word, and the way Noct looks at him in the daytime, exhausted, pleading, Prompto hasn't felt like it was a good idea to broach the subject. If he's being honest with himself, he's afraid if he says something, Noct will stop coming to his bed.

*

The next day, Prompto keeps watching him, waiting for him to bring it up, waiting for some kind of explanation, but it never comes. Noct spends the day training alone, then takes dinner in his room instead of joining them. Gladio frowns about it, and Ignis is quiet, but Prompto knows they're both worried. He wishes he could talk to them about this, but what would he say? Hey guys, Noct has been coming to me for sex every night, is that okay?

That night when Noct climbs into his bed and pushes him back into the pillows, he lets himself imagine that they're somewhere else in some other time. Maybe they're in Noct's bed in his apartment in Insomnia, after a long evening playing video games, and maybe Noct is in love with him. Maybe that's why Noct is kissing him like he's drowning, touching him like he can't get enough, holding him like they're the last men on Eos.

It's easier than considering the alternative.

So he lets himself dream, lets himself wallow in Noct's touch, in the heat of his body. He lets himself tangle his fingers in Noct's hair and kiss his soft lips and suck on his tongue. He lets himself come with Noct's name on his lips.

When he wakes up alone, Prompto wonders if Noct was also imagining something else -- another time, another place. Another lover. A wedding night he'll never get to have. It's not fair; nothing is. It's not fair to Noct that he didn't get to have that. It's not fair to Lunafreya for Prompto to be thinking about his own feelings when she died for the man he loves. And, he selfishly thinks, it's not fair that he finally gets to have Noct, but not all of him.

*

Prompto resolves to do better. He's going to talk to Noct about this. He's going to stop him, when he comes into his bed. He's not going to let this continue until he knows what Noct is really thinking.

But when he sees Noct late in the day, Noct looks so _tired_ , eyes red-rimmed and bleary, that he can't bring himself to say anything that would upset him more.

Noct comes to his bed late that night, after Prompto's asleep. He wakes up to the dip in the mattress, his blankets being tugged over, Noct kissing his shoulder, his neck, his lips. He rolls onto his back and opens his eyes, but all he sees is the top of Noct's head as he's kissing his way down his chest.

"Noct--" he tries to say, but then Noct's mouth closes over his cock and he can't think.

*

The next night, Prompto's mouth is too full of Noct's dick to say anything at all.

*

In the end, does it even really matter?

Prompto never imagined himself as a fighter. He never planned to learn to shoot, to join the Crownsguard, to do any of the things he's done in his life. He got his first push from Lunafreya, but since then he's done it all for Noct. He's had more fun since befriending Noct than he ever even knew was possible. Doing what Noct wants him to do, what he _needs_ him to do, is the thing that's brought Prompto the most joy. It's hard sometimes, but being with Noct is worth it.

Prompto came on this trip to support him. He lives his life for Noct, just like Ignis and Gladio do, except for Prompto it's a choice he made freely, out of love, not duty or obligation. Seeing Noct so lost, especially when Gladio and Ignis aren't willing or able to be there for him . . . It makes him want to make sure that Noct knows he's not alone, that Prompto's always going to be with him, just like Lunafreya had wanted.

If this is something Noct needs right now and that's all, Prompto will give it to him, and take pleasure in it. If this is the beginning of something, if this could turn into love the way Prompto's dreamed -- that will be even better, but he can keep that hope as a cherished secret until the time is right.

*

"She sent me letters," Prompto says, while he and Noct are sitting together poking at their phones a few days later.

Noct barely looks up. "Huh?"

"Lady Lunafreya."

Noct freezes, then slowly puts down his phone. "Is that so."

"When I was a little kid. I found this dog, you know? You know me, I can't leave an injured dog alone. Bandaged her up, took her home. I put up flyers to find the owner, but didn't have any luck." Noct is looking at him curiously now, brows drawn together slightly. "I named her Tiny. It was nice, to have a-- a friend. Mom and Dad were never around, and I was, you know." Prompto waves his hands vaguely. "Anyway one day I woke up and Tiny was gone. I was so upset, I looked everywhere but couldn't find her. Then I got this letter in the mail.

"Turns out it was Lady Lunafreya's dog, Pryna. She’d gone back to her as soon as her leg was better. Guess she'd been in town to find you." Noct is looking down at his hands now, clenching into fists in the fabric of his pants. Prompto finds he can't look at him, not if he wants to finish the story. "She seemed nice. Said thanks for helping her dog, and how I must be a friend of yours if I found her. She really wanted to make sure you had friends." He wipes at a tickle on his face, and his hand comes away wet. He still doesn't look at Noct, but he's pretty sure Noct is crying too.

"Anyway, it's not like we were penpals or anything, but I did get a couple more letters from her, later, after I finally-- well, you know. She really cared about you. She really cared about everyone."

Noct takes a deep breath. Finally, he says, "When we were kids, we used to . . . " He sniffs and rubs his arm over his eyes. "There was this field, full of sylleblossoms. I was still recovering from the Marilith attack, and she would push my wheelchair out there every day. She taught me how to make flower crowns." He smiles and laughs a little, and it lightens Prompto's heart. "We made them for the dogs. Pryna didn't like it but Umbra wore that crown all day. The dogs chased after butterflies and we chased the dogs, her pushing me in the chair. When we got tired out, she helped me out of the chair and down onto the ground, and she read to me."

Noct smiles and shakes his head. "She was four years older than me but she always made time for me. You know, Gladio's closer to me in age than Luna was? But she never acted like it made any difference between us."

"Wish I could have met her," Prompto says with a sigh.

"Yeah," Noct says, "I wish you could have met her too."

He's not sure what it is that makes him say it, but somehow he's blurting out, "She wanted me to stay with you." Noct looks up sharply, and Prompto swallows down his feelings. "'All I ask is that you continue to support Noct, and that you remain ever at his side,'" he quotes. Noct's eyes are shining and wet, but Prompto forces himself to continue. "She wrote me that, when we were kids. And I'm gonna do it. Whatever it takes, whatever you need from me."

"Prompto . . . "

"I'm here," he says, and he doesn't have to force his smile. “You couldn't get rid of me if you tried.”

**Author's Note:**

> Five hundred million thanks to [r3zuri](http://r3zuri.tumblr.com) and [misswonderheart](misswonderheart.tumblr.com) for beta and encouragement and everything, and to [ienablu](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ienablu) for listening to me whine about this endlessly. Also for what it's worth, increased libido during bereavement is absolutely a thing that happens in real life.
> 
> I'm marking it as a series because I've written the same thing from Noct's POV which will be forthcoming shortly. Want to scream about FFXV with me? Find me on tumblr @[marmolita](http://marmolita.tumblr.com)!


End file.
